


no doubt in my mind (where you belong)

by stickynoted



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-27 17:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7627159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickynoted/pseuds/stickynoted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mingyu had it all planned out; it was going to be perfect. Until it wasn't - but it still was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no doubt in my mind (where you belong)

**Author's Note:**

> for ate sam (@bluuugh) on twitter!! bc she was able to decode my jisoo tweet HAHAH  
> this is also in celebration of Rap God Jeon Wonwoo's return !!! aaaahhh welcome back bb <3333

“Tungsten carbide looks good and is cheaper than white gold, but the white gold would look so much prettier. Will they even have one in his size? We should probably call him or something, but then it’ll ruin the surprise. Holy shit, maybe we should –”

“MINGYU!” Minghao looks beyond frustrated with Mingyu and like he’s about to dropkick him in the middle of the busy mall. “We’ve been here for the past two hours looking for this damn ring. I thought you had this all planned out?”

Mingyu scratches the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I did, but I didn’t realize how many options there were.”

Minghao has to force himself to stop from strangling Mingyu and yelling at him. He runs a hand down his face and plops himself onto the bench in front of a jewelry store – their third of the day.

“Look, Minghao,” Mingyu sighs, sitting next to Minghao. “I know you’re exhausted and I’m really sorry this is taking us a while, but I’m asking because you’ve gone through this already and I need all the help I can get.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Minghao speaks up. “Tungsten carbide.”

“What?” Mingyu asks, eyebrow raised in confusion.

Minghao raises his left hand and the ring on his finger gleams in the fluorescent like it was winking at Mingyu. “Tungsten carbide will be a good material for an engagement ring. Spend more on the wedding rings themselves. That was Junhui’s reasoning.”

Minghao gets up from the bench and nods at Mingyu. “Come on, I think i know where to get a tungsten carbide ring without causing your already-tired wallet more stress.”

 

* * *

 

If someone asked Mingyu when he realized he wanted to marry Wonwoo, he’d end up launching into a lecture with prepared charts and all.

Since the week he and Minghao got the ring, which thankfully didn’t cost him an arm and a leg, Mingyu has lost too many opportunities to ask Wonwoo to marry him. He would choke during movie nights in, when they’re on the couch bundled in blankets; he’d forget the ring in his underwear drawer on dinner dates out; he would keep his mouth shut on other occasions because it just didn’t feel right or perfect.

After much persuasion by Seungcheol and his own little sister (as well as threats from Minghao that he would “whoop that ass back to Anyang if there’s no ring on Wonwoo’s finger when I get back from China”), Mingyu’s finally settled on a proposal plan: they’ll go out for early dinner and head to Lotte World, then that’s when the magic happens and Mingyu drops down on one knee to ask Wonwoo the biggest question of their relationship.

Unfortunately for Mingyu, it seems like fate is never by his side.

“Are you fucking joking right now?” Mingyu glares at the rain beating down on their windows, as if his stare could magically wish them away. He wants to scream and cry at the same time because his plan is pretty much ruined and he might have to push the proposal back a day or so. He feels the ring in his pocket press against the cloth of his pants and he genuinely could not hate himself and his luck more.

He’s starting to form an apology text to Minghao and all his friends, begging them to not hate him and beat him half to death when Wonwoo sidles up to him.

“Storm’s pretty bad tonight. Guess we aren’t going out anymore?” Wonwoo asks and only gets a whine in response from Mingyu. He smiles before taking Mingyu’s hand in his own and lacing their fingers together.

“Make pancakes with me?” Mingyu can’t help but marvel at his optimism but then again, Wonwoo has no idea that Mingyu had a proposal tucked away in their evening’s plans.

“It’s nearly 7PM,” Mingyu muses but follows Wonwoo back to the kitchen anyway because he’s a sucker for Wonwoo’s smiles.

All that’s laid out on their counter is a bunch of bowls and plates so they have to reach into cabinets and shelves for the actual ingredients. Mingyu takes down the pancake mix from where he hid it behind ketchup bottles and Wonwoo pulls out the eggs and butter from their fridge as well as a half-empty carton of milk. They dump out into a pile bags of chocolate chips, cereals, other toppings and syrups that they’ll load onto their pancakes before eating.

They rip open the packets of mix and start adding ingredients into the bowl, Mingyu mixing with a sad looking plastic fork as Wonwoo pours whatever’s left of their milk onto the flour mounds, making small talk as Mingyu pokes at air bubbles and tries to de-lump their mix. When they deem their mix to be lump-free enough, Wonwoo tries to crack an egg into the bowl only to fail miserably by dropping half the shell in with it.

“What did you do?!” Mingyu cries out, helplessly poking at the shell with his fork. Wonwoo smacks him with a wet hand before pulling the bowl out of his grasp.

“The more you poke it, the harder it’s going to get to take them out,” Wonwoo chides, sticking a spoon and a pair of chopsticks into the bowl, deftly pulling fragments of white shell out. He clicks his tongue when he finally pulls the last bits out and tossing them into the trash. “There. Shell free.”

They continue with their pancakes, Mingyu now mixing in handfuls of chocolate chips and obviously sneaking tastes of the batter (he only stops when Wonwoo reminds him of salmonella) while Wonwoo heats up the pan and melts the butter into it.

“Do you want big pancakes or small ones?” Wonwoo asks when Mingyu brings over the bowl with way too much chocolate chips to be considered healthy. Mingyu makes a noncommittal noise in response and they’ve been together long enough for Wonwoo to know that means he doesn’t care as long as he can eat them.

“I’ll just grab a clean spoon for you to use,” Mingyu says before reaching into their drawers to pull out a serving spoon that looks a lot like the one his mom’s been looking for the past month. “Hold on, the chocolate chip distribution isn’t great. I’ll mix it again.”

Mingyu ignores the quiet “for the love of God, Mingyu” Wonwoo lets out and sticks the clean spoon into the bowl to give their batter a few final mix throughs. As he’s stirring, he gets an idea and subtly swipes a bit onto his finger.

“Babe?” Mingyu calls out, hiding his finger from Wonwoo’s view.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo looks over at him from where he was washing up. Mingyu waves him over to the bowl.

“Could you check if this is good?” Mingyu asks with a smile, a smile Wonwoo replies to with an eyeroll so hard Mingyu’s a little worried his pupils won’t turn back to normal. “Come on, they’re your pancakes too!”

Wonwoo walks over to look and once he’s in reach, Mingyu darts his hand out and wipes his batter-laden finger down his cheek. Wonwoo yells in surprise before taking in the guffawing Mingyu.

“This is war,” Wonwoo snarls, sticking a hand into an open pack of mix and moving forward to toss flour at Mingyu whose voice cracks as he squeals and tries to duck out of Wonwoo’s reach.

This goes on for a few minutes until both of them and their floor is covered in flour and all sorts of syrups and toppings. Mingyu slips on a stripe of chocolate syrup, pulling Wonwoo along down to the floor with him. They land somewhat painfully, Mingyu on his back and Wonwoo with an “oof” to Mingyu’s chest.

Smiling, Mingyu looks up at Wonwoo who’s got flour in his hair and a smile that could rival the sun and Mingyu realizes this is it. The impact of the moment hits him so hard it takes his breath away, just enough to knock the words out of his throat and out into the open.

“Marry me,” Mingyu almost whispers, as if afraid the words would shatter the aura of affection that shrouded them. Wonwoo’s eyes widen just a bit and Mingyu feels his heart stutter.

“What?” Wonwoo breathes out, fingers curling into the fabric of Mingyu’s shirt, milk seeping though the cotton. Mingyu moves a hand down to his pocket and pulls out the ring that winks at Wonwoo under the light of their kitchen.

“Marry me.” Mingyu repeats, lips inches away that the words slip from his lips to rest on Wonwoo’s cupid’s bow and trickle down past his mouth. He watches as brown eyes dart down to glance at the ring, only for a moment, before looking back to meet his, lined with tears.

Wonwoo doesn’t have to let out a verbal answer; his eyes and body say it all. The way his hands move to rest against Mingyu’s ribs; how his eyes trail every angle of Mingyu’s face as if familiarizing with a plane already memorized. Mingyu knows his answer before he even speaks it, but he does anyway.

  
“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> still on a writing break bc school's getting a little more busy aahh ;; but follow me on twit for stuff @ sproutshua


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